Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor
by pussycatwithattitude
Summary: Two lonely hearts, torn because of the war and its deathly consequences, meet and feel an instant connection. AU Georg/Maria.
1. Chapter 1

_A new story. I think it will only be a short one though. And it's completely AU. There are no children, and it's the first world war. For the purposes of this, Georg is 24 and Maria is 22. My other story is officially on hiatus, I'm not sure for how long. Please do read and review, it makes a huge difference to how I write the chapters to know that people are enjoying what I write and want to read more. Finally, I do not own The Sound of Music or the characters. I wish I did._

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

The town had an unhealthy aroma - mist hung low and the stars failed to shine - and the sound of drunkards leaving taverns, their grunts and groans as they stumbled uncontrollably to the ground, filled the air. A young sailor, of about twenty four years, with dark brown hair and a toned face stepped out from the local tavern, leaving a tonne of shouting and singing behind him. He exhaled deeply, his eyes setting on the ocean ahead and he marvelled at the ease it could bring to his aching soul. Everything about the seas radiated adventure to this sailor - exploring the unknown; forgetting a past riddled with torment and grief and finding a purpose once more. To steer a ship, find a map from the stars and fight for his country was an honour. He smiled slightly, and the sailor stepped forward, closer to the docks' edge as his eyes - a deep shade of blue - remained fixed on the dark ocean and how the lack of wind left the surface calm and unmoved.

Coming to the edge, he lowered himself to the ground. He sat with his legs hanging over the side, content for now with just looking out at the waters and the many ships anchored and awaiting voyage once more. He had been given an eight week leave - two months to rest, regain his strength and the return to fight for his country. This sailor spent most of his time in submarines, however after an attack just last week he, and the rest of the crew, had been given this leave as protocol.

The sailor clenched his fist, because he hated the land. The land reminded him of the past - and here he had no option but to face his demons. He spent most of his life running from emotions. Sailors had been taught to keep their emotions under a leash; never to let them overrule their mind. The sea was the balm to his wounds, and now he felt them opening once more and the pain was almost overwhelming. This sailor had no family to turn to, unlike most of his comrades. His mother had died when he was young, and his father had followed soon after - the people in the town where he used to live called it a broken heart, and no one had ever any reason to believe otherwise.

"Georg," a voice called from behind him. He recognised the voice instantly to be his friend, Charlie. He felt the familiar hand rest on his shoulder, too. "Come on, let's go and drink this pub dry."

Georg shook his head. "I'm fine here."

"We might even be able to fix you up with a pretty lady. Trust me, there are -"

"I just want to be back out there," growled Georg.

Charlie, at this, sat down beside him. He sighed. "We know you do. But there's no use sitting here and longing for it." He stopped for a moment and studied his friend's facial expression. "You were wounded - you almost lost your leg!" Georg shuddered at his words. "And you discharged yourself early. They want you to recover before you go back. The same for all of us."

"But what use are we here?"

"As much use as we are out there with fresh battle scars."

Georg remained silent, absorbing the words and aiming to make sense of them somehow. He did not necessarily agree with them, however he decided not to fight back. He was exhausted: physically, emotionally and in any other form that happened to be possible. Distancing himself from his life-long friend was not on the agenda tonight, or ever if he could help it. So he decided to do what he had done his entire life. He feigned a smile - a convincing smile, he had gotten good at it over the years - and he stood with his friend. He felt Charlie slap his back in a friendly manner, and they both strode back across to the tavern, leaving the tranquil silence of the waters and entering chaos.

The loud sounds immediately hit Georg as Charlie pushed open the door. Tobacco smoke hung in the air, and the ale and whisky had begun taking their toll and the small room was full of life. Some men brawled, some men craned over their drinks in deep discussion with their partner, and other men sang. He was steered through the crowds of men, and to a table where a group of his friends were sat, huddled together. Both men were greeted by their friends, and more drinks were ordered and pushed in front of Georg to drink. He took a huge gulp of the ale, before placing the glass back down on the round, wooden table. His eyes were permanently fixed on the froth which floated upon the top of the drink, however an arm reached across his chest and restricted his vision. He noticed the arm was distinctly feminine, and as his eyes followed the line of her arm and rested upon her hands, he noticed how soft and tender they looked, unlike other women he had seen in the town thus far.

"Sorry, sir," the voice called. "If I could just…"

Georg looked up, and his eyes immediately met hers. They were blue, just like his, and the sailor immediately knew he could lose himself within them. Their depth was apparent, and they glittered as though they held an abundance of kindness - the kind which was wasted upon one individual, and could be shared between thousands. He smiled at her, and moved to take hold of the glass she was struggling to reach.

He handed it to her, and she smiled back, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "Thank you, sir."

Her hair was short, and Georg immediately assumed that she did not care for the latest trends or fashion, and that the style was just practical. The colour also captivated him, it was blonde and it shone even in the dim light of the tavern. The shaping of her face seemed almost perfect, and her lips were neither too small nor too large. Georg found the most overwhelming urge to one day kiss them.

Once the maid had gathered all of the empty glasses, she made to leave their table. However, Johannes, one of the more handsome of the group and the so-called ladies' man, took her by the waist and pulled her down onto his lap. His drunk mumbling was anything but coherent, however he understood a prompt slap to the face, and Georg could not help but smile triumphantly for the girl. "I will get your drinks sir," spoke the girl, getting to her feet and picking up the tray of empty glasses. "But nothing more." At that she walked away, and the entire table exploded into fits of laughter. Many pairs of eyes followed the bar maid, however it was Georg's that lingered for the longest.

"Rejected eh, Johannes? I guess there is a first for everything," laughed Christian, another member of their group. He had light brown hair, and his eyes were a darker brown. He had a girl back home waiting for him, which he was always keen to express, and he would be returning to her in a few days to spend the rest of his leave. He also had a family in Vienna, and for that Georg envied him. Johannes was to stay here in the shipping town for his leave - all of his family were either dead or at war - and as a sailor he knew that staying here, he would be provided for. Charlie was to stay here too, bar a week where he planned to visit his mother and grandmother.

Georg and his eyes felt unable to move, still, from the attractive and intriguing bar maid. Charlie noticed his constant, lingering eyes and smiled knowingly. "Go on, see if you have better luck than Romeo here." Georg turned and raised his eyebrow, as if to say he did not know what his friend was talking about. But Charlie was not to be fooled, and he cocked his head in the direction of the bar where the maid was handing the empty glasses to her colleague. "Go on, you sod."

Needing no more incentive, his intrigue getting the better of him, Georg stood and walked across to the bar. He stood beside the woman for a few moments before she turned and gave him a shy smile.

"What was it you wanted? You sailors are all the same…"

Georg could not understand her tone, whether she meant it angrily or as a mockery.

"I wanted to speak to you."

"I noticed," sighed the maid, resuming with her work and beginning to clean the bar tops with a rather blackened cloth that would add more dirt than shine.

"What's your name?" Georg asked, hoping to break through the layers.

"What's yours?" She retaliated, with no intention of giving her name to this stranger.

"Georg."

"It's very nice to meet you, Georg," continued the maid, scrubbing the top ferociously and with some vehemence. She did not turn or offer her hand to him, the usual ways of greeting, and Georg could not help but smile at her reluctance and evident persistent nature.

A few moments passed, and it became clear she was not going to give her name. Georg looked at her, and then turned to another of the bar maids who was in the process of pouring drinks. She smiled at him, the dark brown locks of her hair falling around her face. She must have sensed an air of desperation or longing in his expression, for she mouthed one word: Maria.

Georg smiled, and turned to the scrubbing maid. "It's very nice to meet you too, Maria."

She turned, shocked. And then she turned to the maid behind the bar, and gave her a look that would almost definitely kill. "Just because you know my name now does not mean I'll do anything with you."

Georg held his hands up defensively. "All I wanted to do was speak to you."

Maria looked at him sceptically. "So speak."

Georg then began to conduct a conversation - well, a conversation where Maria contributed with the occasional murmur or mumble - and eventually began to trail off. He knew this woman would be a challenge, however there was something intriguing about her character that he felt compelled to learn more about. She seemed younger than him, by a few years only he suspected. "So, can I walk you home?"

Maria glanced up at him, still focused on cleaning the wooden bar top. "We don't close for another two hours."

"If I wait another two hours, can I walk you home?"

Maria left no room for thought. "No."

"Why?"

"Because I know exactly what will happen when we get home."

"I'll leave you and find another woman to harass?" He smiled cheekily, and his smile rose even further when he saw her smirking a little. "So, is that a yes?"

"No. It's still a no."

"Well, it was worth a try," Georg sighed, and threw his arms in the air a little dramatically, but not enough to gain any unwanted attention. "I'll try again tomorrow night."

Maria began to move away, focused on clearing another table of its empty glasses. She looked behind her only for a moment, and called.

"Goodbye, Georg."

"So long, Maria."

* * *

><p><em>Please let me know what you think. Whether it be positive or negative, I really do appreciate your comments.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you, thank you, thank you. I was shocked by the amount of positive response to this - I was worried at first, writing something a bit different, so I appreciate every single alert, favourite and review so much. This is a shorter chapter, and I promise to try and give you an update this week. Please continue to let me know what you think to this chapter, and if you think there's anything to improve feel free to say so._

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**  
><em>

As promised, Georg visited the very same tavern the next night, hoping Maria would have changed her mind. He smiled to himself as he sipped his drink, enveloping her bemused and rather shocked expression. She was surprised at his persistence, and she could not help but smile. Stood behind the bar and serving drinks, Maria watched as the man stood and sat himself down on one of the stools just opposite to her. As he set his drink down, he failed to draw his eyes away from the individual that had captured his mind, and wistfully he smiled.

"As promised, here I am."

"I never doubted you."

"But of course this all relies on you now."

Maria eyed him suspiciously, and also noticed that his friends were not present tonight. The thought of him coming alone, and to see her, brought a lurch to her insides. She could not fathom whether it was an uncomfortable lurch – Maria had never felt anything close to this, the furthest she had come to receiving male attention was the small dance her school had organised when she was nine, and even that had ended with an unforgiving stamp on a young Johannes Schmidt's foot. He had limped for the next week, complaining that he owned the world's largest bruise. It had given a young Maria a certain amount of pride; however some of the older students and teachers had looked at her with an essence of disappointment.

This incessant fluttering failed to cease, and as she pursed her lips to mirror contemplation, she commented back. "I finish work in an hour. I'll let you know by then."

Georg waited for the whole hour, finishing another two pints of ale before he was asked to leave at closing time, along with the usual, local drunks by a smug looking Maria. The glitter in her deep, blue eyes told him that he would be seeing her again tonight; therefore he rose from the stool and made his way outside.

The night was cold – bitterly cold, and the wind blew and was keen to voice its discomfort to any traveller among the streets tonight. Feeling the cold, Georg scrunched up his hands as they delved into his pockets, seeking the inevitable warmth. He jumped up and down slightly on the spot, breathing out and watching as evidence of the cold formed around him. His eyes strayed from the old tavern, and out onto the sea often and a glimmer of hope formed in his wide orbs as he longed, once again, to be out there. The pain in his leg returned once more, almost reiterating the current situation and how Georg hated it, and taunting him.

He failed to notice her presence as she left the tavern. Locking the door behind her, and saying a quiet farewell to her colleagues, she walked across to the sailor who had advanced towards the sea. "Hello," she spoke cheerily, her own hands indulging in the warmth of her coat pockets.

Georg turned as soon as he heard her voice, and could not help but smile at her, especially as he took in her appearance. Her dark, brown coat was long and elegant, and reached her mid-thighs, and she wore a huge, woollen scarf and a matching hat.

"So, is it a yes?" He asked hopefully, for he still did not know whether he would be walking her home.

"I think I could endure your company for a little longer."

At this, Georg burst into laughter – the first in rather a while. "Oh-ho, Fraulein. So now spending time with me requires endurance?"

Maria nodded and smiled triumphantly. "Mhm."

Georg then held out his arm for her to take hold of. "Then we should go. Get this over and done with."

However, Maria refused his arm. "I can walk perfectly fine by myself, thank you."

Georg could have laughed right there again, however he refrained from doing so. This woman was certainly going to be a challenge – although, he somehow guessed that he had already broken through a fair few layers and that now he was merely learning about a young girl inexperienced in love and shy, even though she would never show it. They both walked in a comfortable silence for the first few minutes, Maria leading the way out of the town towards her home.

Eventually Maria broke the silence – she had hated silence, all throughout her childhood she had been the one to end any silences. She began to ask him about being a sailor, and his experiences at war. She did ask what it was that made him become a sailor; however Georg quietened at this and just kept walking. Maria turned to him at this moment, watching him with sincerity and kindness. She felt sympathy for him, and knew that he was hiding; that he was running away from something his past would not let go of.

An uncomfortable silence then descended around them, and they could both feel in the air that their conversation would not flow as easily from here on in. Maria brought her hands out from her pockets and folded them together before her. She breathed out deeply, but quietly. "So, you're here for how long?"

"Just under two months."

"That's a little longer than regular, isn't it?" Maria asked curiously. She was used to sailors coming and going in the town, however they never stayed longer than two weeks – maybe three at the most.

"Yes," Georg answered simply. He too then brought his hands from his pockets, but folded them behind his back. "Our regiment has been given a two month leave after the accident."

"Accident?" Maria exclaimed, surprised to hear of these events. "I hope it was nothing serious?"

"Oh no, nothing serious," Georg lied. "They just want us back in shape before we return."

A moment of silence passed between them, before Maria blurted out.

"I hate the war."

Georg turned to her, surprised at the sudden outburst but at the same time eager to learn more of his new woman. He had not learnt anything about her thus far, and he was therefore eager to pick up anything he could. His intrigue was still upon the surface, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I hate it." Maria sensed that he required an explanation, so began. "We see everything here. There are soldiers who come back with limbs missing, and some that do not come back at all." Her head hung low at the final part of her comment, and Georg immediately sensed that she had lost someone. He could see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and he began to ache at the sight. Her eyes were misting over, and the cold and the ferocious wind did little to help her keep this hidden.

However, her head suddenly shot up and she turned to smile at him. "Well, I believe this is goodnight."

Georg was surprised, and looked around to gain some perspective of their surroundings. "We're here?"

Maria nodded mutely, signalling towards the small, picturesque cottage covered in vines and surrounded with beautiful rose bushes, visible even in the night sky. It looked like a beautiful home, and was obviously cared about and was tended to often.

"May I walk you home tomorrow night?"

Georg jumped straight into the waters, both feet first and he longed to be nearby a lifeboat – he feared drowning. When she agreed to his suggestion, he found his aid without delay.

"May I kiss you goodnight?"

"Don't push your luck, sailor." Maria smiled, leaving him and turning towards the house.

As she began to walk, Georg called out; taking his hat from his head he watched after her. "Farewell, for now, Maria."


	3. Chapter 3

_As promised, another update. This is quite a short chapter but I hope you will enjoy it. Thanks again for all the reviews and for everyone who has put this story in their favourites or on alert. Please let me know what you think to this, and also if I become too descriptive - I've been told that I am sometimes, and if you'd like to see more action, or it gets too confusing then just let me know._

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

For the next two nights without fail, Georg had insisted on walking Maria home after she finished her working day. Each night Maria had politely refused his arm, and this continued to intrigue the wounded sailor. Their conversations had continued each night too, however both had remained silent about the topics that had risen on the first evening. The war was simply not mentioned – it seemed a delicate subject for the pair. It was as though they were like tracing paper, and any mention of the warfare that had harshly divided their world into such devastation, chaos and gloom would result in a tear. Both could see in the eyes of the other that they were hiding away from problems in their past, and both knew that the issues were too tender to be raised in general conversation.

The day was bright, and despite the occasional gust of wind the sun was shining and radiating onto the old, fishing town. Georg was sat on a wooden bench beside the edge of the water, just staring dreamily at the vast ocean before him. The waves were crashing, and the sound brought ease to Georg as he became lost in his thoughts and listened to the constant change of the water. That is what Georg loved the most about the ocean – the concept that the water never had a fixed beginning or end; it was just a cycle that failed to cease and was always bringing new experiences, and always changing. He longed for new experiences, and for his past to remain in a place that would never be stumbled upon again. He envied the water. He envied those who were out there now, basking in the adventure and the promise that it brought.

He failed to notice a figure appear behind him, and he only turned when she spoke. "A harsh separation, eh?" He jerked his head, his expression softening as he recognised Maria. Alas, it soon averted to confusion as he silently asked for a further explanation. "The sea? You just seem to look as though you've both been torn apart… and that something may have been lost."

"Something has," he muttered, his eyes diverting to the ground. Something was missing; something inside of him. He felt like a puzzle, having been split into hundreds of pieces and one had been lost. He could never be whole again until he was back out at sea – not until he was commanding a ship once more, or looking over the sides to see the constant change and the waves hitting against the side of the boat. Not until he spent days out with his men, and then the overwhelming feeling of being home as they reached land once more. But of course, his home had now gone. His home was little but an empty house in a desolate village. It seemed so far away now that it was almost meaningless to visit. Visit a place where he no longer belonged? Georg was now a man of authority and meaning, and he told himself that if he no longer belonged there, then he would have no intention of returning.

"Being back out on a ship will never fix this," commented Maria, who had been watching him as he had become lost in his thoughts. She almost sensed the reason to his thinking, and it surprised him as her comment held some relevance. "It's not just the accident you're haunted by, is it?"

Her query was rhetorical, because she already knew the answer. She had spoken to the other sailors, and had listened intently as they had told her about the accident that had threatened all of their lives. A bomb – a torpedo to be exact – had attacked the ship, and chaos had erupted. Until the rescuers came, everyone had expected to die. Georg had been told he may have lost his right leg, and for him – Maria sensed – he had seen the ending to his career, and as far as he was concerned, his life. The young barmaid had witnessed enough casualties of war to know the effect they had on the victim. She saw the fear in Georg's eyes even now – it did not matter how hard he tried to hide it, if there is everlasting damage riddled within the mind then it will always show. It's almost as though you can step onto a train, and it can take you away from where your memories lie, but it will always be there. Whenever you look back, the reminders will be there, and they can either build you or break you.

"We both have secrets," she muttered, sitting herself down beside him on the bench. She held in her hand a brown, paper bag which held her lunch – Maria had just been to the market and purchased it, and was on her way back to eat it in the tavern when she had seen him sat beside the water. "We both have secrets we are not willing to share."

Maria could not believe what she was saying. The levels of their relationship had exceeded personal by far, and here she was attempting to discover the deepest recesses of his heart. She could not quite fathom her feelings for this man, but she knew above all else that she was attracted to him. Never before had any man had such an effect on her – no one before had come even this close to letting her unveil her past, and her secrets. No one had come this close to capturing her heart to the extent which Georg now held it. Although she guessed he was yet to discover the newfound treasure he held within his palms.

Georg found himself listening intently to Maria. She spoke sense – she spoke almost as though she had seen his heart, his mind and his soul and was speaking from experience. If he had felt disturbed by her abilities to read him, he would have felt threatened. But he didn't, and instead he just marvelled at the attractions he felt for her. Never before had any woman had such an effect on him – no one before had come even this close to letting him unveil his past, and his secrets. He found himself wanting to tell her everything about him, and he knew in this moment that she had captured his heart between her delicate palms.

But, being the sailor he was – tenacious, and willing to cover his feelings despite the threat it had to his future, he spoke. "I never said I had a secret."

"No," spoke Maria, agreeing with him. "But I can see that you do. It's in your eyes," she exhaled, and then drew breath once more. "I can see you are running – almost hiding – from something that has happened in your past. Maybe it is the accident, maybe it is something else entirely."

Georg closed his eyes, deeply wounded with the words that spoke such truth and meaning. His heart yearned for his glorious past – the happy, carefree and joyful moments he had spent with his family and friends; the times when his parents were still alive and loved him dearly. All of his family had gone now, and at the tender age of twenty four, having to cope without any sturdy support behind him was proving difficult. No one had ever taught him this – no one had taught him how to cope with grief, or to fend for himself in a world that was constantly under threat. No one had taught him how to cope with his feelings for a woman, and teach him how to control their ferocious tendencies until he felt able to stand without fear of falling.

Maria, for the first time as she watched him so vulnerable, placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. He failed to move, his head was bowed to the ground and his eyes were fixed on the ground, but she knew that he had appreciated her touch. His once rigorous and stiffened posture had relaxed, and she had felt it beneath her hand. She remained that way for the remainder of the hour she had left, before she stood and bid him farewell and returned to work.

* * *

><p><em>The next chapter will be a kind of continuation of this. I was going to keep going with this one and include the next part, but I thought it would be too long and that it worked quite well just finishing here. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter written and posted in the earlier half of this week. <em>


	4. Chapter 4

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

"It's both," Georg spoke aloud, turning to the empty seat beside him that Maria had been occupying. He sighed as he noticed she was no longer there, even though he had heard her leave almost two hours ago. Strangely, he could still feel the pressure on his shoulder where her hand had touched, and he could still feel the warmth that surrounded him, like it was almost keeping him safe in refuge, even though she had left long ago. He cursed himself – he cursed his mind, his tongue, he cursed himself for not having the courage to reveal to her all that he had been hiding. It was true, he was running away and hiding from the accident, but he was also running from something else…

… His past. Georg was a man who told himself that grief lacked clarity, and would make a man seem less than he is. He associated everything painful with all that is cold, and did little to seek the warmth that would pull him out of the deep hole he found himself within. Georg was an agile, and skilled climber however even the slopes of this hole were too complicated to climb without aid.

Georg needed Maria. His head told him no, but a strange sensation around his lower stomach told him otherwise. His heart told him otherwise, however typical and cliché that sounded and however much he would flinch at even the notion of emotions. Georg ran his hand smoothly across the wooden bench, in the exact place where she had been sat. Then he began to clutch at the side, and his knuckles turned white in anger.

Control was a major aspect of his life, and without control he felt inadequate. What is the use of having no control? Man without control over his impulses would become an uncivilised savage who disregarded the law or any authority put ahead of him. Society without control – the world without control – would cease to exist. Every man would be in combat with the other, because there would be no one to govern and no one to say when enough is, and when is to end the mayhem and chaos that highlighted the lack of human discrepancy.

Georg remained out of control of his emotions, and as a result of that he felt himself spiralling into confusion. He longed for the gentle touch of a woman, the warmth of lips on his cheeks, and for someone to come and pull down the curtain and dispose of the confusion. His eyes were in need of being opened.

Georg sat on that bench for at least another few hours, before he noticed that night had fallen around him and realised that it was time to meet Maria. He smiled at the thought simply that the small event that had unfolded a few nights ago had now turned into something regular. He pulled himself up from the seating position and walked with a new sense of purpose, and as he arrived at the tavern, he saw that she was just leaving.

Maria smiled as she caught sight of him. The bright blue of his eyes shimmered even now in the depths of nightfall. His face looked pained still, however she hoped that after their conversation earlier that afternoon he would be more respondent and willing to speak with her. It was not just him; she too wanted to release the burden from her chest that had been restrictive and weighing her down for so long. She knew that Georg had been involved in the war, and she had longed for someone with this experience to come along so she would be able to speak with him about her own losses.

"I thought you weren't coming tonight," spoke Maria, albeit a little shyly. "When you didn't come in for a drink earlier I thought you may have retired early for the night."

Georg chuckled at her admittance, and walked across to stand by her side. "And who would walk you home? I couldn't leave you in the hands of some stranger."

Maria laughed, and feeling a wave of confidence wash over her she linked her arm through his and let her head drop on his shoulder. She could feel his surprise as his muscles tensed. However her nerves were soon calmed as she felt them relax again, seemingly at ease with their newfound contact.

The couple began their customary walk away from the water edge and closer to the inner regions of the old, fishing town. They wandered down the normal streets, taking in the usual sights that would initiate further conversation. As they turned another corner, a few droplets of rain began to fall on their heads, however the two ignored the momentary disturbance and continued their conversation and leisurely walk.

As they turned another corner however, Georg stopped them, the words that were circling his mind and that were on the tip of his tongue acting as the reason for this. Maria looked at him with confusion, her eyes searching his for the justification of their stopping. Georg drew away from her for a moment, and instantly missed the contact.

"It was both," he admitted, summoning the courage to reveal to her what had been torturing him since their earlier meeting. He saw her confusion, and continued. "… Earlier, when you asked what I was running from... It was both."

Maria nodded slowly, smiling sympathetically at him.

"You deserve to know. You deserve to know why I am such a bastard."

His words were bitter, and Maria flinched at the tone. Then she smiled still, and shook her head in disagreement. "You're not," she spoke in a calm and reassuring manner. She moved her hand up to his cheek and tenderly brushed her thumb across the smooth, shaven skin. "Believe me, I wouldn't be here now if you were." Her lips were moving closer and closer to his face, and for one fleeting moment Georg thought she was going to press her lips to his own. However, their initial destination was his cheek. He still soared at the touch – her lips were soft, and gentle and it was the touch he had longed for.

The rain had now begun to beat down faster and faster, and the two were starting to become soaked with water. Maria drew back, and her cheeks had gained rather a lot of colour, a sign of her embarrassment at the intimate touch she had just initiated. As Georg enveloped her entire appearance, he swore that nothing could ever be as beautiful. The rain had taken its toll on her appearance, and her hair clung to the sides of her face, dripping wet and the droplets of water that had soaked her fringe were falling onto her face and rolling down her cheeks. But she still remained beautiful, and hoping to dispel her of any embarrassment she still had, he took her hand that was still cupping his cheek in his own and moved his lips slowly in the direction of hers.

Maria realised the situation they were in, and had no intentions of backing down. However, as her eyes closed awaiting the kiss, a huge clap of thunder sounded around them, forcing the young woman to leap back and scream in fright. It was not that she was particularly afraid of thunderstorms – in fact, she would often sit at her bedroom window and listen to the thunder whilst the water tapped against her window, for there was something therapeutic about the sound that she loved – but whilst outside it remained a different story.

Georg, who sensed her fright, pulled her back towards him and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Knowing that her home was too far away for them to walk in this weather, he steered them in the direction of another place where he knew they could take refuge from the storm.

Maria was curious as to where they were heading to, but knowing that she could trust Georg she followed and allowed him to take the lead.

It took them less than three minutes to reach the hotel Georg was residing in. The reception desk was empty, presumably the middle-aged woman had disappeared earlier that night given that the time was now approaching one o'clock. Georg loosened his grip around Maria now, however still guided her to the staircase, and to his own room. Once inside, he began poking at the fire in a bid to provoke the warmth that the pair desperately required.

"I'm not usually afraid of thunderstorms," Maria commented as she came to join him by the fire, letting her hands rest a little away from the flames as she tried to warm them up. They were both now kneeling by the fire, keeping warm both because of the flames and by being in the company of each other. "I usually sit by my window and listen to it."

Georg turned his head and smiled at her. It was then that he noticed her clothes were soaking wet, and they clung to her body in the most revealing of manners. However, casting aside the clear outline of her body and the effect that was having on him, he politely announced, "You need dry clothes."

Maria, who had felt him watching her, shook her head. "Oh no, I'll be fine. They'll dry soon, and -"

Georg stopped her with his hand. "You'll catch a cold," he argued. Then he rose to his feet and headed in the direction of the bedroom. "Wait here, and I'll fetch you some."

Maria thought it wise not to argue, after all she was beginning to shiver and knew that if she did refuse then she would pay the consequences soon enough. He arrived back almost five minutes later having changed himself, and whilst drying his own hair with a towel he held out to her a pair of his trousers and one of his white shirts. She took them and smiled at him thankfully, before disappearing into the other room to change.

Georg busied himself whilst she was changing – he boiled a pot of water and began making them both hot drinks. He attempted to forget that she was changing just in the other room; however the image of her with those clothes clinging to her body failed to leave his mind. He could not deny his attraction to her; his desires, however he refused to act upon them or even think about them at the moment.

He failed to notice her emerge from the other room, and it was only when she laughed a little that his attention was grasped. She gestured to the clothes, which were at least two sizes too big for her petite frame. The shirt he had given her would have fallen to her mid-thighs had she not tucked it into the trousers, and even those were tied together at the waist with one of his belts. "I borrowed one of your belts, I hope you don't mind."

Georg shook his head, fighting not to smile too widely at her appearance. She walked across to him, and took the towel which he had flung across his shoulder and began to rub her hair which was still damp with rain water. Once she had finished drying it, she noticed that Georg had made the two of them drinks, which were placed on the floor just in front of the fire.

She knelt and joined him there, only for him to turn around and burst into laughter. He gestured to her hair, and how it was now sticking out in all the wrong places – to put it nicely it was a mess, and Georg was only too happy to voice this opinion.

"I could say the same about yours," retorted Maria, giving him a mock glare whilst taking a sip of her drink.

"But look," laughed Georg, his left hand moving to her head in an attempt to flatten the boisterous, blonde hair. "It's…" he continued to smooth her hair, unable to find the right words. The contact once again had caused the two of them to fall silent, and their eyes soon found each other. Words were spoken in those silent moments, and signals passed between them that only they could ever decipher.

It was Maria who initiated the kiss. It was tender to begin with, a shy exploration as she timidly searched to discover more about him. The feel of his lips was exciting for her, and she felt no reason to stop. Then Georg responded, inserting the power and the dominance of his lips. His hands fell from her hair to her waist.

The cackling of the fire behind them brought warmth to the room; however it was not required as there was a new source of comfort, and warmth, for both.

* * *

><p><em>I've tried to amend the description to dialogue ratio, it won't be <em>that _different yet but I'll keep working on it. Thank you all for the feedback, and please let me know what you think to this chapter. You'll discover more to this Maria's past in a little while..._


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie was speaking to him, but every single word leaving his lips were flying over his head and not stopping for even a moment to try and settle. The two friends had met at the local café to eat lunch before Charlie would leave to visit his family, and it was evident that Georg had something else on his mind; something that had overwhelmed the entire of his thoughts. There was little room for anything else to be digested, and Charlie sighed as he continued to watch his despondent friend. "Georg," he called in a gentle but firm tone. When he did not respond, or even give the slightest of inclines that he had heard him, Charlie took the convenient serviette and scrunched it into a tight ball. He threw it at Georg, hitting him around his shoulder blade, and this caught his attention.

Georg looked up. His piercing blue eyes searched his friend to find a reason for this interruption. "What?" asked Georg indignantly, for he was sleep deprived and growing tired of being away from her.

Charlie leant back against the chair, his eyes still fixed on Georg, and folded his arms across his chest. "What's the matter with you?" he asked in the same indignant tone Georg had voiced not a minute ago. "You look like -"

"I'm fine," sighed Georg, standing up to leave before Charlie placed his arm across his to stop him.

"Georg…"

Georg shrugged off his arm, and once again began walking towards the door. Charlie caught up with him, and pulled his shoulder again in an attempt to get through to his friend. This time, at the contact, Georg spun around and rose his arms to push his friend away. "Leave me alone," he growled, and swung his fist; hitting Charlie to the floor.

His eyes watched in awe, struck at what he had just done. Somewhere inside him he felt shame, but he also felt a burning need and desire and that took the control of his actions. Georg turned, and left the café in a state of desperation, and began walking with a quickened pace towards the docks. He felt a stinging in his eyes as he began to remember the night before - everything that had happened, before she had left. He found himself now leaning back against a wall, where he was he was unsure. Georg then turned and rested his head against the brick, his palms both moving upwards to rest against the solid structure too. They then clenched into two fists, and he scraped them down the wall before using his right fist to unleash the raw emotion bubbling inside him.

He was confused.

Last night he had felt something; something he had never experienced before. Their kiss still lingered in his memory, and if he focused enough he could still taste her lips and feel their soft caress. It meant a lot to him that Maria had initiated the kiss; she had initiated the passion between the two of them after she had initially kept the contact between them minimal. He remembered grasping her hair in his hand - he remembered the soft feeling as he had rubbed it between his index finger and thumb.

"_Maria," he mumbled, moving his lips away from her own and beginning to softly plant kisses across her cheek. He had drawn back at that moment, and had looked into her eyes to see exactly the same amount of passion he felt. Or at least that's what he thought._

"_Oh," Maria sighed, and moved both of her hands to cup his face tenderly. She then kissed the corner of his lips sweetly. _

_Georg felt a burning need to kiss her lips once more; to explore the taste of her mouth again. And he did, and Maria began to respond with a similar force. They duelled, and battled for dominance in this kiss. Tongues flicked and explored, and both moaned their gratitude and pleasure. Time passed in those moments, but neither could tell exactly how long. _

Then the kiss had stopped, Georg remembered leaving to fetch something from the other room and when he returned she had disappeared. He had ran out of the hotel and outside into the rain in search for her, but she was nowhere. He had stood motionless in the rain, allowing his clothes to become soaked once more. Maybe standing in the rain could have eased his thoughts, but truthfully he was lost already and no longer had the means to determine his emotions. It's like looking at something for so long, it doesn't make sense anymore. He had neglected his real feelings for years, and now it seemed they no longer meant anything.

Maria had begun to change that, and now she had gone.

Georg hit the concrete wall harder; again and again before he felt the blood spilling across his hand. Straight away, he drew back and looked at it, amazed. He watched it move as he tipped his hand to one side and then the other, rejoicing at the fact he could feel.

He returned to his hotel room, lost in his thoughts. He had mourned the death of his parents and the family he had been raised in - he mourned the loss of memories from his cherished childhood. He was angry that Maria had disappeared the previous night without a single word to him. Georg would never have pressured her into anything more than the kisses they had blissfully shared; the least he was going to offer her was a place to stay away from the ferocious rain. But now he was confused, and he sought to find her and demand an explanation.

Georg had collected her dress on his return to the hotel, she had left it on the drying rack the previous night during her prompt departure. Folding it carefully, he began to walk in the direction of the tavern. He caught sight of her as soon as he walked into the tavern, she was stood on the side of the bar closest to him, bent over and ferociously scrubbing the wooden top.

There was another woman stood behind the bar, and as she caught sight of Georg she assumed he would require a moment alone with Maria. The pub was empty, the usual locals who would appear at midday had not yet made an appearance. The brown-haired girl left and made her way into the back rooms, leaving the sailor and the local girl alone. Maria had not noticed him yet, however when he cleared his throat she spun around.

Her eyes widened in shock, and she brought her hands to her chest; clutching them together. Georg could see her swallow, maybe preparing to speak and give him the explanation he felt he deserved. He noticed the hurt, and maybe the fear, in her eyes but all notions of sympathy he felt had long disappeared. He was angry, and required an explanation.

Georg stepped forward and dropped the folded dress onto the wooden worktop. "You appear to have left this behind, you must have been in a hurry."

Maria could have flinched at his words, and she had to look away to prevent herself from releasing the stubborn tears. She knew she disturbed any words thrown at her, however she longed to have the opportunity to tell him why - to explain to him her reasons for leaving as she did; voice her insecurities and the secrets she had long kept hidden.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, not looking at him for fear of breaking down. "I know that's a pathetic explanation, but -"

"Are you going to?" Georg asked in an authoritive tone. "Are you going to give me an explanation? Because here I am, standing here, falling for you." And he was angry, and he was hurt, and he was confused but none of that he would admit verbally. "And I want to know why you left last night. Because I don't know whether or not I should be here, especially if you don't feel the same way."

Georg watched her helplessly. She lifted her head and looked at him, tears forming in her bright, blue eyes that held such depth and emotion. But Georg did not require looks; he required words - an admittance that there could be something between them.

Moments passed that felt like minutes, and Georg asked exasperated. "Do you?" His plea was barely audible, but Maria heard. Her lips trembled as she longed to respond, but no words would form in her throat or roll off her tongue.

Eventually Georg looked away, and shook his head. He turned and left the tavern, and refused to look back.

* * *

><p><em>I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but after at least two re-writes I've come to the conclusion that it's either this or nothing. I hope it's OK for you all. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts for the previous chapter. The next couple of chapters will involve more about Maria's past, I'm just trying to stretch it out a little.<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_I hope this chapter explains to you the reasons for Maria's lack of commitment, and also that it's believable. I hope it does, I've tried to work on this as much as possible so it does it justice. I'll try and post another update soon, but I can't make promises what with the amount of college work I have - it just seems like I have essay upon essay upon essay, and that's just in one of the four subjects. Thank you to everyone who has continued to review and put this story on their alerts, I appreciate it so much. Oh, and I apologise if there are any mistakes in a historical context. This story was initially set in the early months of 1918._

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

Maria's heart twisted in a painful notion, the harsh memories of her childhood knocking at the walls she had attempted to build over the past few years. The structure seemed less than adequate, and the efficiency of the attempt to block all emotions and feelings was lacking. The brisk, cool air hit her pale complexion and her blue eyes swimming in inevitable tears failed to blink as they focused on the solitary figure nestling by the trees. His silhouette was bent double, and from that Maria could deduce the enormous pain and torment she had put him through - the emotional state of confusion that she had left him in, with no means of justification or reasoning. Mentally, she scolded herself and vowed to never do that to him, or anyone else, again. No matter what she had been through, no one deserved to live with the consequences of her past and it was her obligation to handle this herself, and either overcome the tumultuous repercussions or to live with them and lose those she found herself with feelings for.

That was it.

It was the truth.

She had feelings for Georg. There was no use ignoring these feelings and casting them aside, because something this good was never going to be worth disregarding. These feelings, and the notion of falling in love was scary. It was frightening beyond all comprehension. It's existence would often be questioned, but as long as it is felt by someone then it is real. When something feels true, then the person will believe it is there. No one ever had the right to oppose that. Maria could in fact determine that she felt something for Georg, and that it was real. When she had kissed him, and when he had kissed her, she had felt something. It was new; it was real… It was fiery, passionate and it had mustered a feeling in her lower stomach; a tight, clenching feeling that had filled her with nothing but pleasure.

She wanted to feel that again. But as much as she wanted to feel that, she also wanted to reconcile with him and apologise for any pain she had caused him. Because she knew that she had been the one at fault, and without this admittance they would never progress. Progress marks the process of moving on; forgetting what had already been taught and striving to make sense of all that is new. Lingering on something in the past was unhealthy to the person remembering, but also to the people around them. The past is the past, and it will never be reconciled and it will never be changed.

"_What's done is done, there is no use pining over what you can never change."_

Maria could hear the voice of her grandmother, it had been a phrase that the young woman had never forgotten. It had been an inspirational quote, and it had been spoken in the hope of educating her granddaughter after the traumatic experiences that had caused her to move and live with her older relative. The old woman had been wise, and had seen the grief in her eighteen-year-old granddaughter's eyes, and she had set her heart on washing that away before she would leave her forever.

Maria's grandmother, Rosmarie, had been adamant in her attempts to help her overcome the grief. Since her parents and brother had been killed close to the beginning of the war, she knew there had been a permanent scar across her heart in need of healing. She knew that her granddaughter had witnessed the shootings, or had at least been in close proximity; her trepidation had been evident even as she had arrived to live with her grandmother. She remembered the seclusion she had placed herself in; her refusal to eat; the sobbing and the crying until the early hours of the morning until she would finally fall into a peaceful sleep, a respite from the real world. She would shake convulsively, barely able to move, and her mother's shawl would remain around her shoulders constantly, the smell inviting and the memories comforting.

Only six months after Maria's arrival to be with her grandmother and grandfather, he too had left to fight in the world war after being called by his country. His refusal and lack of motivation could never be voiced. After all, that had been the reasons for his daughter and her family's destruction. He had bid farewell to the two women, fighting to keep his stubborn tears under control. His fear was evident as he had turned and left the cottage for what could have been the final time - he wore his uniform and carried a sack across his back that held the few belongings and memories he could take.

Three months later, Rosmarie and Maria received the fateful letter. It had left both completely torn and besotted in grief. Maria would cry at night for the loss of her parents, her brother and her grandfather, and in the next room her grandmother would sob quietly and run her hands along her husband's piano. Playing at night would ease the ache in her heart that he had left there; it would fill the memories she had of him even for a few fleeting moments. Often, Maria would join her grandmother and stand over her, placing a hand over her shoulder. But she would never sing; she would only appreciate the music being played and rejoice in the sound that marked the beauty even amidst this chaos.

It had taken longer for the grief to then subside, and all hope was eventually lost when Rosmarie passed away three months after her husband's death. She had died in her sleep, and in no pain. It was the one comfort that Maria could summon from this cruel beast that took control of all those she loved. Her grandmother had died painless, unlike every other member of family she knew that had been killed in the name of a war that men fought in for pride and honour.

But Maria had never quite overcome the grief, and had never forgiven the war. Her lack of willing to commit a relationship with any soldier stemmed from this realisation and this fear. She was frightened of being forced to cope with death alone; afraid of receiving a letter confirming the fears that would have been present each day should someone close to her go and fight. Death seemed to be her constant companion - anywhere she would go, death would follow her. It was like a constant shadow of demise that she could never be rid of.

However now, she was willing to take into consideration her grandmother's phrase. Four years after the death of her parents, and three after both of her grandparents had passed away, she felt it was time to let go of her past and to accept that her life had to move on. She had to explain to Georg and apologise for her actions, she had to hope he would forgive her.

Approaching the small collection of trees, her eyes rested upon his figure. He was leant against a tree trunk, both of his hands running through his hair. Georg had not noticed her appearance, so Maria took this opportunity to initiate the conversation; to initiate the apology and the explanation she owed to him.

Maria prepared herself and stepped forward.

"Georg…"


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm surprised myself that this chapter is finished, this week has been hectic to say the least. If it seems rushed, then there is a reason for it - but I wanted to give you this quicker than the last. Thank you all for the response, again I appreciate it so much. I hope you all enjoy this, please let me know what you think._

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

He turned sharply at the sound of her voice. He prepared himself immediately to build the walls that would protect the weakened crevices of his heart. Georg had fallen for her, there was no denying that, but now he would fight to maintain the shards and ruins to prevent further destruction. His eyes instantly met her own, and almost instantly he felt himself lost within them. They were beautiful, irrevocably so and they had seemed to hold so much depth and emotion. He could not help but be captivated as they sparkled in the moonlight that almost danced above them.

The night was beautiful, there was not a cloud in sight. The stars seemed in a constant duel to outshine each other, and the full-moon was a spectacle which lit the sky, as well as the couple below. Even shaded beneath the tree, the light enveloped the pair.

The moments of silence which followed were awkward, and the tension in the air was like a heavy mist obstructing anyone from gaining any great perspective of their surroundings. It seemed to be weighing down the couple, who were just watching each other and waiting for the other to speak. In the end it was Maria who spoke again, she felt it was her obligation.

"Georg, please let me apologise. I want to explain why-"

Georg seemed only too happy to latch onto her statement, and the anger and hurt and the confusion that had been bubbling inside him was suddenly allowed to take its revenge. "And what makes you think I might want your apology? Or your explanation? You made it quite clear what you wanted."

Maria found it marvellous to listen as he vented out his anger. Although she flinched at his words; the words she deserved, his tone was captivating. He still remained in control, even when enraged. There was no raised voice, he did not shout, only spoke in a firm and strong tone that chilled her spine and caused her to shake.

"You may not want it," responded Maria calmly. "But I know that you deserve this, because I could no let you go without telling you that none of this was your fault." She flinched at her own words - the thought of letting him go sent a dull ache through her chest. Maria watched as he leaned heavily against the tree. His eyes shot to the ground as if he was deep in thought, and then they averted back to rest upon her. It was as if he was silently telling her to continue. At this, Maria drew breath and attempted to convey into words her feelings towards him and the reasons why she had kept pulling away. "I was frightened to be involved with you. I know that seems silly, you never did anything to make me think that. Like you, I'm running from something. I'm hiding away from my past and what I really feel, and I'm making silly excuses to shy away from addressing what is really there."

Georg remained silent and watched her, listening intently.

"Four years ago my family were killed, they were shot," Maria's eyes fell to the floor at this admittance, and Georg could sense she was reliving harsh memories. Just like him, she had suffered. "I never found out why. This world just seems fit to take life as it chooses, and it thinks that it is its right to do so." Maria was crying now, tears were falling down her cheeks but she made no attempt to brush them away. When she regained the strength to continue, she did. Overcoming these barriers were important, and once she had climbed over them she thought it would be easier to move forward. "I came here to live with my grandparents, but soon after that my grandfather went to fight in the war. We received the letter three months later to tell us that he had been…"

Maria trailed off, tears overwhelming her. She was almost a boat and the hurricane of emotions that surrounded her were tossing the boat and bringing it close to capsize. This was when she heard the sailor sigh, and she knew that she had the emergency aid. She looked up, her eyes connecting with his, and as he offered her a small, sympathetic smile she felt her heart lift and her strength soar as though it had wings.

Gathering her courage and strength, Maria spoke again. "This war has lost me my family," she admitted in a small, but strong, voice. "And I was frightened that if we became anything more than we were, then I would lose you too. I don't think I could lose anyone else… It would destroy me entirely."

Her voice was mild and meek, and Georg felt an overwhelming urge to place an arm around her and pull her into an embrace, but he refrained from doing so at that moment. He continued to watch her, searching for a moment when she would yearn for this comfort, and he would be there to leap and give it to her. He instantly forgave her, and he instantly felt ashamed. Georg had thought she was so defensive just because she was selfish, but not for one moment had he thought she may have been through someone so traumatic.

"I wanted to learn more about you," she referred to their previous encounters, and her persistent attitude to break through the mould and learn more about him and his experiences in the war. "My grandfather was the last real male figure in my life, we were so close. I wanted to know more about the war, and what it was really like for men besides what we know here. Because all we know are figures - figures, figures, figures - how many have died today, how many by the next day…" she trailed off, and Georg could sense through the thick emotion in her voice that his arms would soon be wrapped around her. "And I want to know more, because this war is not glorious and it's not honourable, men dying for a cause unknown to most is not glorious! It's barbaric, it's-"

She would have collapsed to the floor had it not been for his arms around her. Georg pulled her small body into his arms and wrapped them tightly around her in a sturdy embrace. Instinctively, he pressed a feather-light kiss upon her blonde hair, and also rested his head against her own, hoping it would bring her comfort.

It did. And as Maria's tears soaked his shirt, her sobs subsided after a few moments. The warmth of his arms around her provided an instant comfort, and a stirring feeling within her system worked to sooth the pain. Regaining her normal breathing rate, she loosened her own hold around Georg and pulled back. Their eyes instantly met, and in a silent connection she thanked him.

"I lost my parents too," admitted Georg as he loosened his grip albeit reluctantly. Maria tilted her head, and her hands moved down his arms until they both intertwined with his own, weaving their fingers together. "It was long before the war, but I know how it feels. To feel alone, and always longing for the past, and to feel as though the memories are constantly slipping away. Like you have no control, and it infuriates you. You want to lose yourself in something else; in something else that bears no resemblance to what you once had."

Maria could not respond, words were lost upon her. Searching for the words to respond to his own that were so meaningful seemed impossible. Instead, she just gave him a small nod.

"But being completely lost will never work. Maybe being out at sea forever is wrong, you need to have a place to return to that resembles a home."

Georg failed to notice all that he had said, but Maria did. A single tear fell down her cheek, and she continued to rub the back of his hand soothingly with her thumb.

"You always need a home, Georg," she almost whispered. "It may be the most hurtful of places which evoke all that you long to forget, but it is also where you'll find the most comfort."

"So do you," Georg smiled, releasing one of his hands from her grasp and bringing it to her cheek. "You also need someone to share that with; someone who will love you infallibly… Whoever that may be."

His brief pause had caught her attention, and as their eyes locked Georg knew that he could never put her through any pain. Initiating a relationship between the two of them was only ever likely to cause her pain - especially after what she had just admitted. He could never be the cause of her pain.

The looks which passed between them spoke of the pain, and of the hurt and confusion desperately seeking respite. As blue eyes met with blue, so did the realisation that this fear had not yet ceased, and this fear must be taken care of before they plunged into any form of relationship. There was promise in their eyes, and there was a mystery hanging in the air which promised of a better future, and that when this war had been cast aside there would be a chance.

Georg walked Maria home that night, and for the first time he initiated a kiss between them. There was more to the kiss than just a pressing of his lips as they brushed against her cheek - it almost felt like a promise; a lingering hope, much like a withered flame as it remained resistant to any water. He watched her enter the small cottage, and then turned himself to return home, the smile across his lips the most genuine for years.


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm really sorry this has taken so long, I've felt unable to write at all. Anything I did write was quickly deleted, or changed so many times that it then seemed silly. I hope this chapter will be OK for you all. Reviews are welcome, I'm always one for constructive criticism and I've been told that I take it quite well. So if you don't like something, or you think something could be better, then feel free to say something and I'll try and amend it in future chapters (or chapter for this, depending on how I want to end it). Anyway, thank you to the people that have read and reviewed this, it means a lot that you can take the time to do that. _

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

Georg set down the old, battered rug whilst aware that she was watching him intently, and with some degree of confusion. After accepting his request of a date - or at least that was how he had worded the offer - she had been curious as to what they would be doing. And now they were here, and Maria was ever closer to finding out, it was slowly getting the better of her.

"What are you doing?" she laughed, watching as he sat himself down.

The night was clear, the mist that often loitered had disappeared and the stars dotted in the sky provided the perfect light for the couple. Georg laughed at her inquisitive nature, and held his hand out to her; helping Maria as she came to sit beside him. From the bag he had brought with them, he pulled out one bottle of wine, and accompanying that a glass for them both to share.

"I thought we could spend the night out here," reasoned Georg, hoping she would like his proposition. He had been nervous asking her to spend some time with him tonight, and now that she was here he did not want to disappoint. He had one week left in this tiny, fishing town and he longed to spend the remainder of his time here learning more and more about Maria. He could not deny that he was going to miss her terribly, and part of him was hoping that she would perhaps be still here; waiting for him when he returned. "The nights are getting warmer, after all."

Maria could only smile, and nod, in appreciation. Any time she had spent with men in the past - and these were limited experiences - they had taken her to luxurious restaurants, where she felt odd and almost like she did not belong. There was no denying that Maria had class; she was beautiful and would pass as a lady at the top of the social hierarchy, but it was not where she really belonged. Georg had realised this some time ago, and had therefore sought to think of the most fitting place to take her.

"It's a lovely idea," Maria commented, her eyes following his hands as he unscrewed the bottle of wine and began to pour the liquid into the glass. He handed her the glass first, ever the gentleman. "Thank you."

He sighed happily, and then leant back onto his elbows; allowing his gaze to move from her to the sky above them. "I come here often. Just to sit, and look at the stars," there was something in the tone of his voice that told Maria he would soon be revealing more than just his leisurely activities. There must have been something about the stars that brought respite to his aching soul; something that gave him that release from pain. "Whenever I'm at sea and at loss for what to do, I'd look up and make aimless patterns. There's nothing significant about them, there never is, but it's fascinating that when you want there to be, there's something comforting there in them." Georg stopped for a moment and just continued to look up.

Maria placed the wine glass down on the grass beside her, and then reclined across the rug in order to edge closer to Georg. She too began to look up at the stars. Maria sensed he was now even more comfortable than before, because he continued to speak.

"There's something comforting because they always seem to evoke memories," Georg shifted, subconsciously edging closer to her. "I don't know how they do it - I guess it's just our minds way of bringing us ease and comfort."

After this revelation he stopped for a few moments, and the comfortable silence between them both passed by minute after minute. It was Maria who eventually spoke.

"Are you worried about going back?"

Georg wanted to say that he was frightened; that he was scared, but somehow in front of her he could not manage that. All he could manage were a few words, but these were abstract and did little to answer Maria's initial question. "It'll be a change, especially after all this time."

It suddenly struck Maria that Georg may still be holding memories of the accident. Of course he would, it was evidently a serious accident otherwise he would not have been recovering here for two months. She acknowledged that he had not, as of yet, told her about the accident. But Maria knew herself that harsh and painful memories were difficult to speak about until the person felt ready, so she vowed not to ask him. If he wanted to tell her, then he must be the one to initiate that conversation.

"Mhm," murmured Maria, keeping to her word.

The atmosphere was a little awkward afterwards, so both Georg and Maria just lay and looked at the stars. Often, one would raise their arm and point to a series of stars that formed a pattern - sometimes the other would see the pattern; other times they would not. They shared the bottle of wine, it lasting them a couple of hours at least. Neither could say when it happened, but at some point in the evening, Maria shifted and her head lay comfortably on Georg's chest. In this position, comforted by the warmth radiating from his chest, her eyes closed and she was lulled into sleep.

Georg watched her for a period of time, his eyes tenderly caressing the features of her face that he had come to adore. The steady pace of her breathing was a comfort to him, much like the memories that were held in the stars, and began to stroke back the hair from her face systematically.

When a severe chill swept through the air, Georg decided that the best thing to do would be to wake her. He did, and after witnessing a violent shiver, they packed the few things they had carried with them and began to walk in the direction of Maria's cottage.

For the last few weeks after he walked her home - he often walked her home from work, still - Georg would kiss her lips and bid her goodnight. Every night she would smile sweetly, and then turn towards the front door of the small cottage. It seemed as though tonight would be no different, there was nothing distinguishably different in the air.

Georg manoeuvred his arm to link with Maria, subconsciously pulling her closer to him and revelling in warmth she brought to his frame. The nights were beginning to lose their bitter chill, it was now the middle of March, but there was still a breeze in the air that required her warmth only. No coat could bring him the inexpressible warmth that she gave with a simple smile, perhaps.

"Are you looking forward to going back?" Maria suddenly asked as they turned down another of the country roads.

"Mmm, I suppose," Georg responded timidly, loosening his grip on her slightly as they continued to walk. "It will certainly be a change in scenery after the past month or so. Just another week, and I'll be back at sea."

"It will certainly be different here without you," she confessed.

Georg turned to her, a surprised, happy and smug look etched across his face. "Really?"

Swallowing her pride, Maria nodded and turned to him. Her grimacing smile told him that she was fighting hard not to laugh. "Mhm," she murmured, before Georg pulled her even closer to him in a playful manner, secretly attempting to pry more information out of her that, truthfully, would make his heart soar. "I thought all you sailors were the same, only after one thing… But you're different."

She turned to him, a rosy tint covering her cheeks as she began to think about what she had implied. But there was something in the light, and shimmering twinkle in her eyes that told Georg silently that she would not mind him now converting to her sailor stereotype.

Pulling her closer with his hands, and his eyes, Georg lowered his lips to hers and pressed them together delicately. Maria responded willingly to the kiss; moving her hands to place on his arms. There was a desire present in the kiss, but due to a growing necessity for oxygen, they pulled apart.

Georg, regaining his breath, smiled wickedly at Maria. She commented, "You'd better get into better shape than that if you're going back next week."

It was a light-hearted comment - it was all she could manage, a serious conversation about this topic was bound to leave a tear in her heart.

"Oh, are you saying I'm not in shape?"

"I'm saying I could probably outrun you," retorted Maria, with a playful and competitive glimmer in her eye.

"Challenge accepted," he commented immediately after her outburst, mimicking a professional stance as he prepared to race her down to the end of the road.

Maria, on the verge of an outburst of laughter, nodded and bent over slightly in preparation for starting. Both counted down from three, and then sped off. Her reaction time may not have been as efficient as her opponent, but Maria soon caught up with him, clearly having grown with a natural sprinting speed. As she narrowly took the lead, Georg began to quicken his pace, but as he did so he failed to notice a rather large rock, at least in comparison with the rest on the dusty road, and he tripped and fell.

As she heard a rather loud groan, and someone stumbling to the floor. She could only deduce, since they were alone, that Georg had fallen, so she quickly turned and found that her assumptions were correct. He lay on the ground, cradling his left ankle and hissing in pain. She ran over to him.

"I guess this is what comes with us being so competitive," laughed Maria, bending down to gently touch his ankle and familiarise herself with the situation. She received a hearty glare from him in response. "Do you think you could walk on it?" she asked after carefully examining his ankle. It looked a little sore, and looked to be on the verge of swelling, but at least it was not broken.

"I think so," muttered Georg, his pride evidently dented by his fall. He got to his feet with little help from Maria, wanting to prove that he could stand alone. However, as he began to walk he found that he would need her support, even if it was only minimal. Maria noticed, and saving him the trouble of asking she came to his side and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"We're not far," commented Maria, looking ahead at the road and knowing she lived minutes away. "I'll find you some ice when we get there, and you can rest it properly."

Georg muttered his thanks, and walked alongside Maria, hobbling slightly. They arrived at her little cottage after approximately fifteen minutes - longer than it would have usually taken had one of the party not been limping. Maria showed him into the cottage, and instantly Georg began to envelop all of the warmth it provided.

They entered into a small hallway, and they were immediately met with the stairs. To the left Georg assumed to be the kitchen, he could faintly identify the usual implements found there, and to the right led to a sitting area which housed an old, battered sofa that he presumed belonged to her grandparents. His eyes eagerly looked down the hallway, and to a closed oak door.

"That was my grandfather's study," explained Maria as she noticed him looking. "Upstairs are the two bedrooms and the bathroom. If you can manage the stairs I can make you up the spare bed."

The word _if _was stressed, and Georg soon knew why. As he looked at the stairs properly, he could see they spiralled in the most demanding and notorious of manners, and he could immediately sense that it would prove difficult to climb them, even with help.

"We'll see," he smiled. Maria then led him to the right, and into the sitting room. Carefully lowering him down onto the sofa, she brought over a wooden stool and with tenderness, so as not to hurt him, she lifted his leg onto it. Removing his shoes and socks, Maria left to go and find some ice, and Georg took this opportunity to look around. The room was almost riddled with nostalgia; there were photographs hung upon the walls - some that he presumed were her grandparents' that she simply did not have the heart to remove - and an old armchair in the corner with a small table beside. An old ash tray sat on the table, clean but still able to comfort with its scent he assumed. The mantelpiece above the fire was impeccably clean, but something else caught his eye. An old box sat in the centre - it was wooden, and the carving was beautiful and had obviously been done by an expert hand. There was just something about it that was entrancing, and he also knew that it must be special to Maria.

"It was my grandmothers, she gave it to me before she died," Maria spoke as she re-entered the room, kneeling on the floor beside the stool.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Oh no, don't worry," smiled Maria. She placed the ice, wrapped in a small towel, onto Georg's ankle. He jumped at the sudden cool sensation, but soon became accustomed to it. After a few moments of holding the ice to his ankle, Maria managed to strap it somehow to his leg, and therefore move to sit beside him.

"You're quite the nurse," he commented with a smirk.

"I know the basics," laughed Maria. "Anything else goes wrong and you're a dead man."

Georg laughed heartily, and then began to relax into the sofa. Both rested their heads on the back of the sofa, and as their conversation continued their heads turned to face each other. Only inches apart, slight glimpses of tension were apparent. They could both see the passion deep in the eyes of the other, and although neither had the bravery to leap into this unknown territory, neither wanted to ignore it either. Georg could hear Maria breathing heavily, and he felt a twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach, and an aching lower down that he instantly recognised.

It was Maria who decided to break the tension. "It's quite cold in here, I'll start the fire." She was stopped from standing, however, as his arm reached out.

"Maria," he whispered seemingly husky, his voice catching in his throat.

She turned back to him, her eyes fiery and blazing down at him. He felt like a withered strand of grass under the scrutiny of the sun - but as with the fierce rays, there came warmth. As she moved forward, her lips nearing his own, his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist and pulled her further towards him. Their lips met with a fervent desire - a desire that they had never reached before. They both knew that this now had little to do with tender or loving caresses; they knew that they needed each other, they knew that they both silently feared the worst for next week. As their fears had mounted, so had the need to be with one another.

Georg began to make progress on her dress, fumbling with the buttons at the front whilst attempting to pry away the fabric that covered her shoulders. As he began to feel the soft skin underneath, his lips descended and he heard her moan in delight. Maria made quick work of his shirt, undoing the buttons expertly.

As Georg managed to undo her dress, he managed to stop in his caresses momentarily, giving him the time to look into her eyes. Silently; without the need for words, he asked her whether she wanted this. She could read his eyes like her favourite book, and in response she only moved her head down to capture his lips once more, her hands moving across his chest; onto his arms where she delighted in the feel of his strong muscles.

Georg's lips responded possessively, consuming himself in the feelings he had for her whilst trying to forget his fears of the upcoming week…

Sated and content, hours later Maria was still awake with her head against Georg's chest, the two of them wrapped in a blanket for additional warmth. The rhythm of his chest as it went up and down filled her with an undeterminable sense of elation, and she could not prevent herself from dropping a loving kiss onto his chest.

Georg absent-mindedly ran his fingers through her blonde hair, a troubled and pensive look etched across his features. It wad clear that he was still thinking about next week, and the thought of returning to such conditions compared to what he had been used to for the past month frightened him. It frightened him to think that he may never see her again.

He began to speak. Maria could not tell, when she first heard him, if he was meaning to say this aloud to her, but after a few moments she instantly recognised that this was his way of opening up to her. "The ship was hit. At first all I could think about was the noise. There was the explosive itself, it was deafening. But then there was the shouting, and the screaming… Everywhere was panic; everywhere was chaos. Men ran for their lives - they jumped and swam as far as they could go to escape from the flames. It was only after a few moments that I realised I couldn't move. I was lying there, helpless. There was so much blood…" Maria tried to imagine the horror, but she could not. A tear fell from her eye, and it rolled down her cheek as she imagined what he must have been through. "It was Johannes that found me," Maria remembered him from the night she had first met Georg. "He carried me to a large piece of debris. I felt so helpless… He was there, doing everything for me and all I could do was say nothing. I said nothing; I did nothing. We floated for days in the ocean until they found us. I thought we would die, and I knew it would be my fault if we did. I was the one that couldn't do a thing to help…"

Maria wanted to reassure him; she wanted to tell him that it was not his fault. But she also felt unable to interrupt him. She knew how important this was to him.

"I must have been unconscious again, because I woke up in the hospital. They told me I could have lost my leg… If I had, I would never have been able to-"

"But you didn't," Maria interrupted now. "You didn't die, and you didn't lose your leg. You're here," she spoke tenderly, turning her head and lifting her hand to caress his cheek.

"When I go back," Georg started. "Will you wait for me?"

His question took her by surprise. Maria knew this was not just a plea to wait; to be here when he came back again. The sincerity in his voice told her that he wanted to spend his life with her when he returned - this was almost a proposal. A warm feeling surged throughout her, and as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, she opened her mouth and responded.

"I'll wait."

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><p><em>I hope you liked it. I was going to leave you all on a cliff-hanger, but then I decided not to (I'm not exactly the fastest of updaters). I'll leave you all to imagine what happened during the sex scene, because I'm not one for writing it. Please let me know what you thought to this chapter!<em>


	9. Chapter 9

_This is the last chapter! I hope you all like it, and I'd just like to say how much I appreciate all of the feedback every single one of you have given throughout this. I like to think I've cut down on my rambling in this chapter, but I'll leave that for you to decide. I have a few more story ideas at the moment, but depending on how my creative-ness goes I'm unsure as to whether I will continue with While My Guitar Gently Weeps. I will try though. Anyway, here you go, the last chapter. Thank you all again xxxx_

_**Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor**_

Georg's last night in the little fishing town was fast approaching. In fact, tonight would be the last he would spend with Maria before leaving.

As he approached the little kitchen that morning, he could hear the sweet humming voice of Maria, and he smiled. Over the past few days Georg had learnt that Maria had the most beautiful singing voice. They had also grown closer over the past few days - he would spend his nights here with her in the cottage, and his days too when she was not working. Maria had now ceased with her humming, and instead began singing a song that Georg did not recognise. He simply leant against the frame of the door, smiling and watching her.

"When I'm feeling sad," she murmured whilst preparing a mug of coffee for the two of them. "I simply remember my favourite things, and then I don't feel so bad."

When Georg heard the lyrics she was singing, his smile fell. As she then began to repeat the song; singing about raindrops on roses and crisp, apple strudel, he approached her from behind and dropped his hands gently to her waist. She did not seem surprised by his sudden appearance, and instead leant back against him and silently longed for him to continue with the feather-light touches to her waist. He leant forward, granting her request, and also pressed a kiss to the soft skin of her neck.

"What else do you like?" he asked, referring to the song.

"Mmm," Maria mumbled in response to his kisses, tilting her neck to one side; providing him with much better access. "Green meadows, skies full of stars... _You!_" She gasped as his kisses began to heat up. He was now trailing his lips across her neck, causing murmurs and moans to escape her throat.

He smiled to himself, mumbling incoherently into her neck.

"You think about all of these things when you're feeling sad?"

Maria nodded, turning into his embrace. Trapped between the kitchen side counter and his toned chest, Maria felt she had no option but to look up at him; make the eye contact and initiate the conversation starter that she had needed for the past few years of her life. "It was a song my mother taught me. We thought of our favourite things together."

"Tell me about it."

Maria then began to talk about her mother - and although Georg had not guessed, it was the first real moment since her death. She explained how raindrops on roses had caused them to glisten in the sunlight, making them even more beautiful. She described to him the stray, little kitten that had wandered onto their farm one winter morning. It had been shivering, but its whiskers had been so long Maria had been caught in marvel, and from that moment a five-year-old Maria had developed a loving obsession for kittens and cats. Her mother had once brought home a rusty kettle with interesting markings, and for the rest of the day mother and daughter had spent their time polishing it. It had transformed into the bright, copper kettle in their song - Maria's father had marvelled at their work, and commented that he must be a rich, noble lord to have such fine implements in his home.

Maria smiled at the memory, and once she had accounted for the rest of the song, looked up at Georg with sincerity and tears in her eyes.

"What are you frightened about now?" he enquired gently.

It took a few moments for Maria to compose herself and respond, but eventually she spoke. "You... I'm frightened that you will go, and not come back."

Georg released a sad sigh, and then gathered her tightly in his arms. He knew this was affecting both of them - he recognised the fear that lingered in the air and threatened the natural supply around them. He was frightened too - he could never deny that those uncomfortable lurches came from fear. But he did not just fear for himself, he feared for Maria too. Leaving her alone was his biggest fear, because he knew that her heart was not likely to survive any more grief or ache.

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't... If I hadn't tried so hard to-"

"No," she interrupted. "If you hadn't made such an effort... I'm in a better place now than I was before." The truth in her tone of voice astounded him. "My mother didn't just teach me to think about my favourite things when I'm sad, she also told me to look for my life. She told me that love in your heart is never put there to stay; it isn't love until you give it away."

The expression in his eyes could never be described with words. No one could take his emotions and write them down in a sonnet, or even make the most fantastic tale of love in literature.

"She always told me to give that advice to my own children," Maria continued. "So first I should probably abide by it myself."

Georg found words useless and futile now, and instead leant down to press his lips gently onto hers. It was the gentlest kiss he had ever given, but even with these most minimal amounts of contact, it sent jolts throughout his entire body. When he pulled away, Maria only leant back into him and responded further. Her kiss was harder, and more demanding.

"I was going to make us breakfast," she mumbled against his lips.

"I'm not hungry," he responded, his hands enthralled in the softness of her hair as they ravaged through it. He eventually managed to remove his hands, and when oxygen became a necessity he led her back upstairs to bed. They decided to spend as much of their time together now as they could.

When night drew and darkness descended, they were lying beside each other. Georg had his eyes firmly planted on the ceiling, his mind deep in thought as they pondered over what tomorrow would bring. He was passive, and seemed unresponsive to the gentle, occasional touches from Maria. She lay in the foetal position beside him - her arms wrapped around herself, and she softly continued to gaze at him through her blue eyes. Tears had threatened to fall, but for the time being she remained in control of her own emotions. It felt odd. Often her body would refuse to accept her pleas, but this time it had listened. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, basking in the sight of him whilst she still could; appreciating the closeness between them, and that had developed recently. Maria had never shared such intimacy with a man, but whilst she rejoiced at the pride coursing through her body, she still feared that she may lose him.

Maria pressed a loving kiss to his bare shoulder. This touch caused Georg to turn his head; shift his body to look at her intensely. The expression in his eyes told her everything, and so did the powerful, hungry kiss that followed. He needed her. He needed to join with her again tonight. He did not need tender caresses, he needed the contact. Maria was only too happy to comply, allowing him to take charge and follow his male instincts.

She cried out his name, and as he collapsed onto her she wrapped her arms around his chest; pulling him even closer. The friction caused by their skin contact caused certain degrees of desire to surge throughout them again, but Georg remained in Maria's arms. After a while, as he felt tiredness overwhelm him, he shifted a little to rest more by her side. However, Maria would not let him move too far away. She kept her hold on him that night; letting him fall asleep in her arms.

* * *

><p>The next morning came in a prompt manner. The looks exchanged between Maria and Georg were silent, but both understood the other. They would both usually find it incredible how they could communicate silently, but today the only thing crossing their minds was his departure. Their contact seemed minimal, almost as though they were frightened to initiate the intimacy between them for fear of potentially losing it forever.<p>

They shared their mug of coffee that morning, both taking it in turns to take a sip of the liquid that would comfort and stabilise them for a second at the most. Both would glance at the clock nervously, dreading the time that the small hand would reach ten, the larger one to reach twelve. That is the time they would have to leave if Georg was to be there in time for eleven o'clock. They had both decided to be there in plenty of time, there was no use in denying the inevitable.

As Maria left to go upstairs and get changed, Georg stood and walked around the kitchen aimlessly. He fingered the outline of something round in his pocket, and contemplated taking it out now and presenting her with it, or waiting until later. When Maria did return downstairs in a plain, simple dress, it seemed that he would indeed wait until later.

They both resumed their seating arrangement at the kitchen table, their eyes searching each others for the comfort they both so desperately needed. Eventually, after much deliberation and a rush of emotion throughout the both of them, Maria stood to then come across and sit herself across his lap. He wrapped his arms steadily around her, pulling her closer to him as she buried her head into his shoulder. He too moved his head to gently rest in the area where her shoulder and neck met, and then they both sobbed. Maria clung to Georg desperately, silently asking whether he must go.

Georg and his silent sobs were masked by hers, but she noticed as the tears met her skin. She felt his hands smooth her hair, his way of soughting the comfort he needed, so she clung to him even more; tightening the hold she had around him.

"I'll miss you," she finally mumbled into his shoulder.

Georg could not respond verbally at the moment, so instead he planted a kiss onto her neck.

A few moments later, when he had gathered himself, he finally managed to speak. "What you said yesterday..." he stopped for a moment, unsure of what to say next.

When Maria looked up and saw the expression in his eyes, she instantly knew what he meant. She instantly knew what he was referring to - she had seen the same expression in his eyes yesterday when she had mentioned the love in her heart.

She nodded. "Yes Georg, I do love you."

The emotion in his eyes was incomprehensible. They seemed to hold so much raw emotion, and they watched the woman in his arms with awe, and the moment he brought his lips down to her own, she knew he loved her too.

But then he did something that really proclaimed his love for her.

Reaching into his pocket, he brought out an object in the shape of a ring. Maria gasped as Georg held it up to her. "This was my grandmother's engagement ring, I'd like you to have it."

"Georg..." she began to protest.

"Maria, please take it. This is my promise to you, that _when_ I return you will be my wife, and that _when_ this war is over we will be happy for the rest of our lives together." As he stressed the word _when _on multiple occasions, Maria felt her heart lift a little. She knew that nothing was ever ensured with this war, but his promise to her felt joyous and it evidently professed his love for her. So she took the ring from his hand, and placed it on the right finger. Georg smiled, and thanked her, and their lips soon joined in a searing kiss.

The clock then chimed, signalling that it was time he left.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Maria asked, still wary of leaving his lap, and a look of doom etched across her features.

Georg shook his head and placed a kiss upon her forehead. "No, you stay here."

She nodded in response, mumbling and then climbing off his lap. Maria then offered him her hand, and he took it with gratitude as he was pulled to his feet. Offering her a small smile, he walked into the other room and gathered his sturdy bag of belongings required for the months that lay ahead of him. As he then approached the front door, he turned to find Maria with tears in her eyes, evidently waiting until he left to fall.

"I don't want to say goodbye," she mumbled, closing the distance between them.

"Don't be dismayed by goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again."

Georg's response seemed to calm Maria slightly, and he soon closed the distance completely between them. He embraced her tightly, kissing her forehead tenderly. As they shared one final, powerful kiss before he left, he then bid her farewell and opened the front door. His attempt to not look back at the cottage as he left was futile. He did, and he smiled brightly at the figure of Maria, still stood in the doorway. Then he turned away and began walking down the road, away from sight, unaware that when he returned thirteen months later they would share a daughter.

Fini

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><p><em>It was either going to be that ending or this: "... unaware that he would never return, and never meet the daughter they shared." but I really couldn't do that. Obviously a lot of credit goes to The Sound of Music for the characters... and My Favourite Things, and some of the quotes that I may have played around with. Credit to Richard Bach and his beautiful quotes too, I know this is set before his time, but oh well. Thank you for reading, and hopefully I'll have a new story for you soon :-) <em>


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